I’m not a photographer. I’m not. Not even using instagram and all of its fancy lenses do I get the false hope that photography might be something I’m good at. My shortcomings in perspective, focus, scale and all of those others terms that I’m only vaguely familiar are readily apparent with a quick perusal of my photo gallery on my iPhone. (That is a problem in and of itself, don’t you think? That our phones also serve as our cameras?) I know real photographers, I am not one. In spite of my self-aware ineptitude, I still love taking pictures. I always have. Admittedly, the advent of selfies has been a dream come true for a narcissist like me. While I love myself, I am not my favorite subject, my family is. I love taking...